


Song of the Iron Dragon

by digikid



Series: A song Of the Iron Dragon [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), One Direction (Band)
Genre: But i will be adding some stuff for the sake of the boys, F/M, Harry Stark, Im going to try and keep as much of the show as possible, Liam Baratheon, Louis Tyrell, M/M, Multi, Niall Lannister, Zayn Targaryen, oh and zayn is basically Asexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digikid/pseuds/digikid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tension in Westerso rises when the Hand of the King dies. Five boys hold the future of the known world in their hands; Harry must do everything in his power to stay alive in the game of thrones, Niall is tasked with protecting the second oldest Stark boy who turns out to be a friend...maybe more?, Zayn struggles to gather an army and take back his birthright and find the dwindling remnants of his family, Liam tires to keep the peace, and poor Louis doesn't know who he can trust.</p>
<p>Slow build relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Every beinnging starts with an end

Chapter 1

Even in summer, Winterfell was cold. The Maesters said that Harry would always feel the chill more than others; he wasn’t born in the dead of winter like his siblings. Maesters be damned though, he was fucking cold. He was supposed to be in the courtyard, helping his little brother, Bran, with his archery. Harry was the son of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark, His older Brother was Robb Stark, and he had several younger siblings: Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon. He has a Bastard brother named Jon Snow; he didn’t hold any resentment towards his brother.

He honestly didn’t want to be out of the castle today but the son of a Lord has many expectations. He couldn’t be late to anything important; he had to be polite every second of the day. It was tiring being a Stark.

The way to the court yard was engraved into his memory from walking the path for 17 years, He was much better with a bow and arrow than he was with a sword. This is why he was supposed to be helping Bran, the boy needed to improve his archery skills greatly and whom better to teach him than his own brother?

Harry made his way outside just was a cold wind blew, he cursed the Maesters for being right. He trudged his way through the mud that never seemed to dry, he was more than a half hour late and he knew that his father would lecture him on the lessons of punctuality later but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He could hear the loud obnoxious voice of Theon Greyjoy, Harry rolled his eyes. Theon was probably boasting of the Iron Islands again, Even though he hadn’t been there in nearly ten or eleven years.

Harry stepped into the even muddier court yard and waved to Robb and Jon who were giving Bran instruction. “Your footing is wrong” Harry told Bran as he approached them, when he got in touching distance he manually positioned Bran. When he was done he stepped back with his brothers “Where were you?” that was Jon, ever the serious one of the Stark even though he wasn’t officially a Stark, oh the technicalities. “None of your business”, in truth Harry was chatting up one of the younger cooks and lost time. Harry looked up to the balcony where his mother and father were currently watching them. With a smile he waved at them, his mother smiled and gave him a nod but his father frowned at him. Yep, this lecture was going to be a nice long one.

Harry turned back just in time to see Bran launch his arrow, Harry hoped that it would have hit the target. Sadly it did not; instead it hit the very top of the hay bale. Robb and Theon laughed and made jokes while Jon simply smiled. “Quiet. How many of you were marksmen at the age of 10, Bran you just keep practicing.” His father’s voice rang out; they all looked up to see Ned looking down at them, he looked at each of them but his gaze was on Harry for the longest time. “Harry, nice of you to join us” Harry’s ears burned with embarrassment, his father often pointed out his tardiness in hopes that Harry would learn from the embarrassment he went through, he never did.

Suddenly, an arrow went straight to the center, Harry knew immediately who shot that “Run, Arya!” he told her with a smile as Bran took off after his older sister while everyone laughed at the two.

 

* * *

 

The sun shined high across the narrow sea and unlike in the north of Westeros, it was not cold, or even cool- it was scorching. One would think in 16 years that Zayn would be accustomed to such heat, but it remained a living hell for him. After the murder of his father, Rhaegar Targaryen, his mother sent him across the sea with the ever-present pressure of being the last of his bloodline.

Zayn later heard of his family’s death: his mother and siblings murdered in their sleep, they never had a chance. He cried himself to sleep for weeks after hearing the news; he was truly alone, no matter how many people took him in. He would never hear his mother’s voice as she sang to him; never hear the laughter of his younger siblings. When he reached the age of twelve he left the protection of his mother’s distant cousin and sat off to find a way to get back to Westros and take back the Iron Throne.

He knew it would take time and resources, which he didn’t have right now but would soon. He was currently in a small village. The huts were made of dried mud that did nothing to help with the heat; he stayed in worse accommodations than these huts, much worse.

Zayn wiped the sweat off his forehead, the heat was particularly worse today than normally and no method of cooling off was helping. He smiled at the people in the street and for the most part they smiled back. Others didn’t smile, in fact they glared at him. They had obviously heard about the Black Dragon of Westeros, that’s the name that people had given him. Unlike the rest of his family he had black hair instead of the platinum white hair and yet much like the rest of his family his eyes were violet and vibrant.

“M’Lord” the voice was behind him, he stopped and turned around. The voice was one he did not recognize so it wasn’t the family he was staying with. The voice belonged to a boy slightly younger than him, possible 16. The boy stopped in front of him and smiled “Forgive me m’lord, but I’ve a message for you from my master.” The boy spoke like a peasant in the old country.

“Tell me this message” he spoke kindly.

“My Master would like to meet with you.” The boy spoke not looking Zayn in his eyes. “And who is your Master?” Zayn asked the boy, gripping his chin gently making him look Zayn in the eye.

“Magister Elc, over seer of not only this village, but the two around it.”

Zayn was surprised at this, he hadn’t expected the Magister to associate with him. A cast out dragon. Unable to offer anything that would be of value other than his few words of wisdom. “Take me to him” Zayn commanded, the servant nodded and turned around leading Zayn to the elegant building that cast a shadow over them all.

* * *

 

The halls of Kings Landing were dreary and boring, or at least to Niall they were. His golden Lannister hair shining as he walked in front of the windows.

Ser Niall Lannister, from the house of Lannister, first of his name and knight of the Andals. He hated his title, it was long and he hated it. People always referred to him as Ser, he hated that bastard Robert for naming him a knight. His dear brother-in-law named him as such because he stopped a drunken fool from stabbing an equally drunken king years ago.

Sometimes he wishes he let the drunken fool at least nick the king a bit.

Servants bowed as he walked past them and he rolled his eyes. If he wasn’t a knight they would still bow as he was a Lannister. He nodded his head slightly and smiled, he was the nice Lannister, the kind and compassionate one.

He couldn’t wait to get to his own bed chambers, he had been following the king around per usual listening to him send profanities towards any women that had two legs and a presentable face. It didn’t bother him as much as it did his brother Jamie, who was let’s just say very devoted to their sister queen.

He saw the way Jamie’s hand clutched around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white. He saw the murderous look in his eyes and often wondered when his dear brother and head of the kingsguard would snap and kill this king. He may have been just a babe when kings landing was sacked and the mad king killed. He grew up with the servants telling stories of his father taking the capitol and his brother sticking his sword in the back of the man he swore to protect.

They would look at him and ask out loud and to themselves if their little lord would grow up to be like his brother; a traitor and an oath breaker. And Niall would look up at them with wide and innocent eyes wondering why they were calling his big brother a traitor. Of course now Niall knew and grew angry every time he thought of it, not because they spoke ill of his brother but because they would dare compare him to Jamie.

Entering his bed chamber he took off his cloak and tossed it aside. He hated the heavy armor that a knight had to wear, so he took it off whenever he had the chance and threw on his common clothing. A red shirt with golden trendles and a lion over his right breast and well-tailored trouser pants.

He threw on said clothing and tossed himself onto his bed, laying there with his eyes shut. Enjoying the small silence that his room offered him, it was a welcomed sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. The silence didn’t last long, mere minutes in fact, when a knock sounded at his door. When he didn’t answer the knocking persisted.

“Fucking Hell, stop that and come in” he said not opening his eyes. “Is that anyway to talk to your queen?” his sister’s voice rang as the door opened and footsteps were heard entering his room. He laughed “Maybe not the queen, but I can talk to my sister any fucking way I want” he said with a smile.

The bed dipped and he groaned. He sat up and opened his eye, his sister was smiling. It was a very rare site in public, but when Niall and she were alone they were always laughing and smiling. “Robert says you left in a hurry and wanted me to talk to you about leaving before your duties were over”

Niall raised his eyebrow “He is just upset because I left him at the mercy of Lancel and Jamie” He shot back. He would rather spend the with the king than with their useless cousin. “I can’t blame you brother.” To anyone else it would have looked like Cersei was joking but Niall saw the sadness in her eyes. He knew that she hated Robert, but it hadn’t always been that way. Niall could remember being by his sisters side on her wedding day, the look of joy and apprehension on her face, her golden gown that made her seem like a goddess that came from the heavens.

Something happened to his beloved sister that night for the next morning Cersei was more distant and cold. That’s the first time Niall felt the twinge of resentment towards the new king.

They talked for an hour or so about everything and nothing. They did not mention Niall’s mother nor Cersei’s, who while not happy that her father took another bride years after the death of her mother, was happy when Niall was born. She say that there was an instant connection between the half siblings when she first saw the newborn child. Of course that’s not the only reason his mother was a touchy subject, she had died four years after Niall was born due to an unknown affliction.

"I must be going dear brother, it is almost supper time and the Queen must be there.” She said rising from the bed. She was almost out the door when she turned around smirking at him, “Oh and brother I expect to see you there and with a smile on your face.” Niall flew back on his bed groaning as his sister laughs walking out.

* * *

 

Storms End was considered a cold place, the wind always blew and it was nearly always raining. People never wanted to come to the intimidating castle much less stay there, but Liam fucking loved it. He found an odd comfort in the cold halls, in the storm clouds that graced the sky nearly every day.

His brothers thought he was insane when he volunteered to stay and fill in as Lord Regeant for his older brother Renley so that he may accompany their King Brother, Robert, to his home at King’s Landing.

Currently Liam was leaning out the open window in what he considered to be his mini throne room, something that Robert found amusing. Lightning danced in the sky and Liam smiled largely. Growing up in Storms End gave Liam a certain affection for the hard rains that plagued this part of Westeros.

He was so caught up in watching the storm in-front of him he didn’t hear anyone enter the room. Someone cleared their throat behind him and he whirled around to see an old Maester and behind him was two people; a young maiden and a slightly older man.

They both had burnet hair. The man hair was darker in color than the beautiful doe-eye maiden next to him. The only real difference between the two besides their gender was their eye color; The Women had soft brown eye and he had eyes bluer than the water below the castle.

"May I present the Lady Margaery and Lord Louis of house Tyrell.” They bowed and curtsied respectively and Liam did the same.

He walked past the Maester and took Margaery’s hand “it is a pleasure to see you again” he said looking at her and her brother. Their brother Loras came to live with them a few years back when he was just a squire, he trained under his brother’s wing. He and Margaery were about the same age. Louis was just barely older, coming out on top as the oldest of the Tyrell siblings.

The siblings smiled at him “The pleasure is all ours Lord Liam” Louis said his title teasingly. Liam rolled his eyes and glanced back at Margaery, who was looking at their hands “My apologizes my lady” he withdrew his hands from hers and steps back/

“What brings you to Storms End?” he asked leading them to the table that sat in front of the oversized chair. He did not sit in it like he normally would, that chair was for official lord business (at least for Liam it was) and this did not feel like official lord business.

Louis spoke as they sat down “Margaery here felt the need to journey out of Highgarden, but grandmother refused saying it was unsafe for a young maiden.” He stopped to chuckle, Liam joined him. They both knew that Louis’ sister was far from helpless. “But I managed to convince our dearest grandmother that Storms End would be the perfect place for me to visit as our brother was fostered here” she said sweetly and politely.

“Well, I am honored that Lady Olenna would allow you to come here under my protection.” Honestly, their Grandmother probably assumed that Renley was still here and acting Lord of the castle. “She thinks highly of you, my Lord. She is fond of you, more so than the others,” that surprised him. He thought that out of the four Baratheon’s, Renley or Robert would be the one she favors, not him.

“Don’t look so surprised Liam” Louis said with impolite eye roll “She likes you because you’re not a brute like Stannis, full of yourself like Renley, nor are you a drunk like our dear King.” Out of all her children and Grandchildren only Louis inherited her blunt honesty and unashamed personality.

His sister slapped his arm and glared at him harshly. “Louis! You are in the presence of the Kings brother and yet, you slander him!” she scolded her older brother, sending Liam an apologetic look. He simply shook his head as he did not mind, he didn’t have as big of a temper as Robert and his ego was nowhere as big as Renley’s. “Your brother is fine, Margaery.” He said dropping all formalities, seeing as they were alone, he did not feel the need to use them and urged them to follow his lead.

“It was still inappropriate Liam” she chided.

Any other human would have been blushing in shame, but Louis wasn’t like any other human. He was grinning madly and not looking a bit sorry for what he said.


	2. Calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, life and theatre have been kicking my ass. And just cause Zayn left doesn't mean he's not going to be in this fanfiction.

Chapter 2

Everyone was whispering, no one spoke of it out loud in fear of invoking the wrath of King. Jon Arryn was dead, the Hand to the king was gone. A fever took him in the dark of the night, no one saw it coming, and not even the Maesters could save him from the suddenness of it.

 Niall didn’t exactly have a good relationship with the Hand. He was always ordering Niall to fetch this for the king or not to mock the king, it was annoying. But Niall never wish the man dead, he wasn’t that kind of person. He didn’t wish people dead just because he didn’t like them.

For the first time in a long time the castle was silent as they mourned the loss. Niall walked to the room in which the Silent Sister prepared the body, or whatever they did to it. He was surprised to see Jamie walking towards him and then towards the door, now that was odd.

He made sure that he was as silent as the women shuffling around the body. While he held no love for the man on the table he wasn’t a disrespectful cunt. “Niall?” the voice belonged to his sister who was leaning on a stone pillar looking at him with as much confusion as he felt “Come to pay my respects dear sister,” he said gesturing his head to the body on the stone slab.

His sister scoffed, “You never respected Jon Arryn in life, why would you respect him in death?” he rolled his eyes at his sister. “Because he served the realm well and he at least deserves my respect for that,” he said smoothly, while smiling charmingly at his sister.

“Why are you here sister?”

“It is as you said, dearest brother. He did protect my children and I,” after spending his entire life around his beloved sister he could tell that she was lying easy. He could have easily called her out on it but he thought what good would it have done? Why did he care that his sister was doing at Jon Arryn’s body cleansing?

So instead of speaking, he simply walked over and sat next to his sister and leaned against the pillar next to hers. “If we are being honest here,” he said, smirking at his sister who frowned, “Then I am compelled to say this: Jon Arryn was a horrible hand, or at least to me, way too bossy.” The frown was whipped away and a small smile graced his sister’s face.

She left Niall to his own resources. He continued to watch the sister bless the body and mummer prayers to their beloved Seven. Niall never understood how people could believe in one God with seven faces, it was odd to him.

When the sisters left to go deal with other matters, Niall took the opportunity to inspect the body of the old Hand.

 Jon laid with his hands placed as an X across his chest. On his eyes were two stones with eyes drawn on them. Niall scoffed at the stupidity of covering his eyes with stone ones, it made no sense to the young Knight. What good would that serve Jon Arryn in the afterlife? Footsteps approached the door and Niall shot up, watching the Silent Sisters work is one thing, approaching the body was another, so Niall did the natural thing and hid.

Lyssa Arryn burst through the doors and walked at a brisk pace towards her husband’s body. She flung herself at him and began to weep loudly, it made Niall uncomfortable. He didn’t dare move though, Lyssa never held any love for Lannisters and he doubted she would get any if one was seen sneaking out of her husband’s blessing ceremony.

“I will make them pay,” her voice resounded through the room. Niall wondered who she was talking about, but he didn’t wonder long as she answered. “The Lannisters will pay for all the pain they have caused,” that threw Niall off. It seemed as if she was putting on a show, maybe Niall was imagining things. Sure, he ridiculed Jon behind his back in his private chambers when no one was around, but what has his family ever done to them?

The dreaded women cried for several minutes before gathering herself and leaving. That gave Niall some relief. Now, he could finally leave the room that smelled like death.

He opened the door and stopped when he ran into a squire, his cousin, Lancel. Groaning inwardly, he gave his cousin a false smile. “What do you need Cousin?” Nothing but family mattered to the Lannisters and, as much as he hated his cousin, he was family.

“The king wishes to inform you that we will be riding north to Winterfell in one week’s time.” Great Winterfell, a literal frozen hell. No doubt they would be going there to see Robert’s old friend, Eddard Stark, Warden of the North.

The Magister’s home was elegant and beautiful, everything Zayn was robbed off. The slave boy lead him through the halls adorned with paintings so life like and real it was if the people in them were watching him walk in front of them, judging him.

It reminded him of a home his mother took him to once when he was small, his uncle’s house in Dorne. The Martell’s were royals in their own right, Princes and Princesses of Dorne, That made Zayn double royalty, not that anyone here knew that.

They found Magister Elc in the library, reading a rather large volume. “Master, I Present Zayn Targaryen, First of his name, Wonderer of Essos and rightful heir to the seven kingdoms” Zayn never minded his title, it was better than his younger cousins Viserys title of ‘The Beggar King’.  He never begged for anything and was disgusted that a Targaryen would stoop to such a depth. It disgraced his entire bloodline.

The man reading the book was well in his fifties and completely bald, his robes hid his body so Zayn couldn’t tell if he was fat or meat and bones. He looked up from the book and grey eyes met violet, he smiled at Zayn revealing his yellowing teeth. “Ah! The Wondering king!” he said closing the book with a loud noise.

He walked towards Zayn, his long silk robes dragging behind him with each step closer to the black haired man. He circled Zayn, is beady eyes inspecting him. Zayn couldn’t help but feel like the man was undressing him with his eyes.

“Why have you brought me here?” Zayn questioned, his lilac eye narrowing in on the man before him. He didn’t like the way the man was looking at him, like he was meat that was being waved in front of a starving slave. The Magister smile widened “I wanted to see the last living dragon.” That was like a slap to Zayn’s face.

“The last dragon died years ago. Killed by the Usurper.” Zayn said in his normally calm voice, he did not wish to speak about his father with this man nor any man. The smile fell from the man’s face and Zayn took a small amount of satisfaction. “Don’t you hear what people whisper about you?” he didn’t understand what this had to do with anything so he shook his head even though he did know.

People called him the Black Dragon of Dorne. Even though he had only step foot in Dorne maybe three times in the five years he lived as Prince of Westeros. “I do not appreciate being lied to young Dragon” the old man chided as if he was speaking to a small child who had been caught doing something wrong.

“I don’t know what you speak of” Zayn persisted.

Elc sighed and sat in a rather large looking chair that faced Zayn “I know you know, but I’ll tell you anyways” he said. “They say that the Black Dragon is biding his time, waiting from the perfect moment to form an alliance that would help him across the narrow sea. That you are the last Dragon, unlike the self-proclaimed Viserys, you are the true dragon.” He looked Zayn in the eye as he spoke. “You are the rightful heir to the iron throne.” He finished.

“You still have yet to tell me why I am here” he said getting impatient, he didn’t like when people weren’t straight forward with him. When Zayn spoke to someone he was straight forward and he expected them to do so as well.

The Magister motioned for Zayn to take the seat next to him and did. “I wish to form an alliance, if you will, between you and me. You need resources and I have them.” To say that the younger man was surprised was an understatement. “And what would you get in return for your resources.” Zayn wasn’t stupid, he knew that no one did something for nothing.

“You. I would get you in return.” Whatever Zayn was going to say halted him his throat and his eyes widened. He wanted to marry Zayn? The old man looked at Zayn waiting for him to give him an answer. Zayn could not speak. He was revolted by the very idea of being married to this man.

Unlike Westeros, same sex relationships were not frowned upon. Zayn had trouble adjusting to that when he first came to Essos, He asked his mother’s cousins why two men kissing weren’t being separated and scolded for doing such things in public. She merely laughed and told him she would explain later, which she did. Even after she explained it all it took him years to adjust.

“You expect me to marry you!?” Zayn asked incredulously before letting out a laugh. He didn’t stop laughing when the Magister’s face turned bright red, he didn’t stop when the door opened then shut hurriedly, and he didn’t stop when the Magister stood in front of him. No Zayn did not stop laughing, because the mere motion that he would marry this silly little man was funnier than any joke he had ever heard.

The slap was sudden and it stung. Zayn touched the now tender cheek, it felt warm and just touching felt like needles on his skin. Anger filled Zayn, how dare this puny little man strike him. Slowly Zayn rose from the chair, his normally lilac eyes were now a dark violet.

Fear filled the Magisters eyes, he took a step back away from Zayn. “You think I would marry you? A lowly Magister?” Zayn now stood taller than the cowering robed man. “You are nothing to me, a mere stepping stone. My father was Rhaegar, Prince of Westeros. I am of royal blood. Dragon’s blood runs through my veins. And what are you? Whose blood runs through your veins? A whores?” With each word Magister Elc shrunk away from the raging boy, who seemed to grow taller with each word.

“And still you wish me to marry you?” The man nodded tentatively, “Yes you nee-“, he started to say but Zayn wasn’t in the mood to listen to him speak foolish words of marriage and resources. “Yes, yes. I need your resources to take back Westeros, but tell me dear Elc. What resources can you offer me? You over see three small villages; you can offer nothing to me. And even if you could, I want nothing of you.” He did not slap the cowering man, no he didn’t. He balled his fist up and punched the man in the nose, smiling when he heard and satisfying crunch.

Stepping over the now unconscious man, Zayn made his way toward the door, however, he did not stop there. He went to where he was resided, packed his bags, and left the village.

 

The sky was grey and somber, much like the mood. Harry hated serious moods, he was the most awkward of the Starks. He couldn’t be diplomatic like his father or confident like his unyielding brother.

There had been word of a deserter from the Night’s Watch wandering near Winterfell, and as Warden of The North it was his father’s duty to investigate. Per usual, he took Robb, Jon, himself and Bran. It was Bran’s first time seeing what would come of a deserter of the Night’s Watch.

They found him walking, or well, limping at a brisk pace. From what Harry could see and hear, he was muttering something about white walkers. Harry scoffed; the man was clearly insane. White walkers were bed time stories told by Old Nan and wet nurses to make children mind. No man had ever seen a white walker in thousands of years.

While Harry is kind and Just, but even he had his limits. The man took an oath, to protect the realm from those beyond the wall and serve the wall. Breaking the oath of the Night’s Watch was punishable by death, and his father had to be the one who carried it out. ‘The man who passes the sentence should swing the word. Our ways are the old ways’. Harry never truly understood it until he went to his first execution.

When his father dismounted his horse, Harry and his brothers followed. Eddard glanced over at Harry, motioning for his son to grab Ice, the longsword completely made of Valyrian steel. It was taller than Harry and almost as heavy, it took all his strength to hand it over to Theon.

“I know I broke my oath and I know I’m a deserter. I should have gone back to the wall to warn them, but I seen what ‘a seen.” He insisted “I saw the White Walkers, people need know.” His tone of voice was sure and firm, the fear evident across his face. Whatever he saw scared him enough to make the man think it was a White Walker. “If you can get word to my family tell ‘em I’m not coward. Tell ‘em I’m sorry.” The air was still. Father stared at the boy wistfully. His father nodded to his men and they grabbed him coarsely, forcing him to kneel and bow to where his head perched on the log.

Eddard grabbed the sword’s hilt, pulling it out of its sheath and placing the blade face down, the hilt beneath his chin. He began to speak “In the name of Robert of the house Baratheon, King of the Andals and the First Men,” Harry heard Jon whisper to Bran to not look away, for father would know. “Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm. I, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North”, he halted then proceeded, “Sentence you to die.”

Harry knew what was coming, his father would draw Ice back and then with a hard swing, he would behead the poor bastard. And he did exactly that. Father used so much strength that the head came off with immaculate tact, like a hot knife through butter. He knew what was coming, yet, he still flinched when the head rolled away from its body and towards him.

Harry stared at the head which seem to stare back. The fear that engrave his eyes earlier were there, only, there was something else, something that Harry didn’t recognize. He didn’t get a chance to contemplate what it could have been before Robb had walked over to him and patted his shoulder roughly. “You flinched.” He said apparently. Harry looked up from the head then to his brother, “I always flinch,” he proclaimed.

Every execution made him recoil. While he believed that they should be punished, he never enjoyed seeing it happen. To see someone accept their obligatory fate might be the worst thing Harry has ever had the displeasure of witnessing. Of course he flinched, he didn’t understand how others did not.

“Father hates it when you do” Robb continued. He always gave him a stern talk that said man up and observe. “Father also hates it when I’m late, chatting up cooks, skipping my sword lessons, sneaking out, teaching Arya how to shoot a bow and a numerous amount of other things.” And with that Harry, left his brother and mounted his horse.

His mother always said he had ‘wolfs blood’. Him and Arya both, neither one of them like the rules and confinement that came with being a Lord and a Lady. Though Harry wasn’t as bad as his baby sister, she was more a wild wolf living among domesticated dogs.

As they set off back home Harry ended up in the front with his father, something he tried to avoid best he could, not that he didn’t love his father, he just didn’t want that obligatory lecture that he was bound to get.

“You cannot continue to be late.” His father began, “You are a Stark of Winterfell, people need to be able to count on you and they never will if you are tardy. What Lady would marry a man who would most likely be late to his own wedding?” His father asked, looking at him for the first time since they headed back home. “I know you have wolf’s blood, my sister and brother had it. Do you know what happened to them? They both were killed, sent into an early grave. I don’t want that for you, I want you to live a long life. One where you marry a nice Lady, have a hoard of children, then die at an old age.”

Harry stopped listening after that. Eddard would repeat himself several occasions without ever knowing, but Harry knew. He got more talks than his other siblings combined so he knew his father’s speech patterns well. Well enough that he could recite that speech near perfectly as it was not the first time he heard it.

It lasted ten whole minutes. Ten minutes of Ned talking before something made him stop suddenly, that peaked Harry’s interest, and it took something very big to make his father stop his lecturing.

Up ahead was the mangled body of a huge stag, its entrails spilled on to the road. The stench was unbearable as they neared it. Harry gagged when he dismounted as did everyone else.

“What is it?” Harry heard someone from behind ask. He didn’t know who and he didn’t care honestly. He was focused on the dead animal that lay in front of him, its body mangled to pieces and an antler missing. “Maybe a mountain lion?” Theon suggested.

“No mountain lions in these woods.” His father told him. Something in the woods caught not only Harry’s attention but his father’s as well. Without waiting for anyone, Harry started walking into the woods, ignoring his father’s commands that he wait. What’s one more speech about his attention lacking?

Not far from the road, just down a hill was the figure of a dead animal. An animal that he only heard of in stories: a Direwolf. It laid dead with what seemed to be an antler in its throat, under its jaw lay pups suckling at its teats. He examined them all, but dare not touch them.

The wolves were all different shades of grey. One of the six was completely black and then one was near white. Harry felt his father’s hand push him away as he kneeled down to examine the beast himself.

“It’s a freak.” Theon said with awe and slight disgust as he looked at the body.

“It’s a Direwolf” he father said looking up at Ser Rodrik who only stared at the beast, unable to speak at the moment. “Tough ol’ beast.” His father said as he struggled slightly to pull the antler out of the beast’s body.

“There are no Direwolves beyond the wall” Robb said, drawing attention from their father to himself without meaning too. “Well now there are Six” Jon countered pointing to the six pups sucking at their dead mother’s body. Harry smiled at the dark grey one that seemed to have lost interest in competing with its sibling and stumbled towards him.

Bending down, he picked it up in his hands. He turned it over so he could get a better look at it. The pup had crystal blue eyes and white tipped ears with paws that greatly contrasted with the rest of its dark grey body.

“Where will they go?” Bran asked as he too held a pup, a lighter shade than the one he held “Their mother is dead.”  He lifted the pup up slightly to indicate what he meant.

“Direwolves do not belong here” Ser Rodrik said in his deep ever serious voice, his father nodded in agreement. Harry didn’t like the interaction between the two old friends, his father rose with a sad look “Better a quick death. They won’t last without their mother.” Harry paled, tightening his hold on the pup and stepping away from Theon who advanced on the two Starks holding the pups. He pulled a dagger and grabbed Bran’s pup, said boy let out a cry of protest, once he had it he turned to Harry “Give it here” without warning, Harry pulled his dagger and held the pointed it at Theon.

“One more step Greyjoy” Harry threatened darkly. Theon took a step back with a look of surprise, as did everyone else. They’ve never seen Harry draw his weapon on someone, and now he was pointing one a friend. “Put your blades down both of you.” Robb commanded them. The second oldest Stark did not lower the blade and only glared at the hostage of Winterfell.

“I take orders from your father, not you” Theon challenged yet still lowered his knife slightly. Bran looked to his father with pleading eyes “Father please!” he could see that his father was torn between his duty and his children “I’m sorry Bran. Harry give Theon the wolf” He father commanded. Harry looked Eddard in the eye and in that moment his father knew that Harry would not easily give the wolf pup up.

“Lord Stark?” Jon called out. It was always weird to hear his bastard brother address his own father so formally “There are six pups. One for each of the stark children The Direwolf is the sigil of your house.” Jon pointed out and Harry caught on to what his was saying.

“We were meant to have them father” Harry said. Ned sighed in defeat “You will train them yourselves, you will feed them yourselves” He took a long pause to look at his three children “and if they die you will bury them yourself.” A grin broke across Harry’s face and he hugged the wolf to him. “What about you?” Bran asked looking at Jon who simply shrugged.

“I am no Stark.”

Robb and Theon gathered the other wolf pups and they started up hill. A whimper stopped the party in their tracks “What was that?” Bran asked curiously, Jon went to the source of the sound and pulled a white wolf pup. “It’s an Albino” Harry said just as Theon spoke “That is the runt of the littler, that one belongs to you Snow.”

 The pup squirmed in the green eyed boys arms. It wanted attention, which Harry gave it. He petted the wolf behind the ear and that seemed to satisfy the pups need for affection. “The girls and Rickon can pick which ones they want.” Jon said as they got back on the road.

“They will need names” Harry muttered to himself. He struggled to get on the horse with the pup in hand, thankfully Ser Rodrik came and took the animal way long enough for the miniature lord to get on his horse. The Ser lifted the pup up and for a brief moment the sun shone out and onto the baby, it cast a great shadow across the ground and Harry knew instantly what the pups name would be. “Come Shadow, let’s go home”

It was an oddity for the sun to be out at Storms End for more than a few hours, so when it seemed as if it would be out all day, Liam took Margaery out for a ride so that they could enjoy the sun together. “Where is your brother?” Liam asked when they got to the fields that normally were flooded with water.

“He said that he didn’t want to impose upon you by forcing you to put up with him.” She said with a small smile that normally graced her lips. Liam learned not to question what Louis said or did, it was usually for a reason that most people didn’t understand unless they figured it out or Louis made it bluntly clear.

They rode in silence, Margaery admired the plain while they were dry and Liam admired her. It was no secret that he enjoyed spending time with her, more than what was normal by any standard and he could only hope that she enjoyed his company as well. “It is very beautiful when it’s not pouring rain.” She said looking at Liam, eye contact was made and Liam looked away. “I think the storms are just as lovely.” He smiled at her as she tilted her head in confusion, asking a silent question. “The rains are calming and the lightning flashes too. It’s something you would have to see yourself”

Ever the Lady she nodded as he spoke, even if she didn’t truly understand what he was saying. Sometimes Liam didn’t understand why he loved Storms end; the rains were always coming, the ground always muddy and when the rains did stop it was for a short time and then they returned with a vengeance.

If you ask the old people they will tell you it is the gods trying to knock the fortress down for something the original King did to offend them. Liam never like hear of the gods, he hated the idea of some higher power controlling his life.

“I received a raven this morning” Liam started “Robert wants me to meet him and travel with him to Winterfell” he didn’t tell her that the letter was more of a Royal summons and he would have no choice but to go. The news didn’t seem to affect her mood in the least bit or if it did she didn’t let it show.

“It’s fine Liam. You have a duty to do, I understand” She said politely an edge to her voice. Over the past week she and Liam have spent so much time together that she grew accustomed to seeing him every day, as had Louis. “I could ride with you, I’ve heard that Winterfell is very…..enjoyable” there was a hesitation in her voice that made Liam shake his head with a small smile.

“I must refuse my Lady.” It wasn’t like he wanted to refuse her, he just couldn’t take this beautiful rose into the withering cold. “You wouldn’t like it at all. It is always cold. The sun never shines.” He informed her “They are very serious there, unlike here, they never make jokes or have fun” He went to Winterfell once right after his fourteenth name day, needless to say he fucking hated it. When he spoke he was either ignored or they gave him a look that was so serious that he shut his mouth.

“Also I fear that Lady Olenna would not approve of me stealing you off for however long this takes.” The silence between them grew after he fell quiet. It wasn’t like before, it was an awkward suffocating silence that Liam wanted to end. He always hated the silence, another reason he loved Storms End, it was never truly quiet.

“I do believe you are right.” She said softy, the small smile still on her face. He could tell that she wanted to say something else on the matter but he knew she wouldn’t. Unlike her brother she knew when to speak and exactly what to say, he often thought she would do well in kings landing.

“Do you want to continue the ride or turn back?” his question seemed to have broken the odd air that descended on them after he spoke of the summons. Her smile grew and it seemed as if the sun shined brighter. All thoughts of Robert and Winterfell left his mind as he and Margaery talked about everything and nothing. She didn’t expect anything from him as either a Lord or a Baratheon and that meant a lot to him.

And only when the sun began to sink into the horizon did they turn back and head towards the castle. Both of them smiling and laughing as Liam told her about a time Renley was nearly caught with a servant boy by Robert when they were younger, it felt like ages ago. “And now he is with my bother.” Margaery said with a smile, her eyes scanning his face for his reaction.

“Oh believe me I know.” He said with a laugh as he went on to tell her about how he walked in on their brothers in a very compromising position to which she laughed at. “And all Loras could do is cover up his man bits and Renley laid there stunned.” It felt good to talk about the thing he kept secret for so long, not that it was a big secret. Nearly half the kingdom suspected it, but few actually knew the truth.

When the castle was in view Margaery looked at Liam with a small smirk “Race you to the castle?” Liam looked at her and then nodded “You’re on” and with that the two took off.

The started to pick up a tale-tell sign that the rains were coming again, luckily they were half way before the rain started to fall. Light at first and then it began to pour down, it began to sting as it hit Liam in the face, he could only imagine how the Lady must feel wearing just the dress. One look at her and he could tell that she didn’t care of the sting the rains brought, she was smiling as she passed him up.

When they reached the castle it was clear that Margaery had won their little race which she announced as Liam helped her down from her horse. They ran into the castle laughing and smiling while doing so. They were both soaked to bone, both shivering from the cool wind. “That was wonderful” She said gleefully looking at Liam with doe eyes full of happiness.

Her hair was wet and matted to her head, yet she looked as beautiful as ever. Without thinking he reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. His hand ended up caressing her head softly, they stared into each other’s eyes. If you asked either one of them they would both say that nothing happened after that but they both would be lying.

Liam leaned in and kissed Margaery softly. He expected her to push him off and slap him hard, not to return the kiss with equal passion.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading Lovelies! I will try and update at least every week or every other week, depending on how much stuff I have to do. Don't be scared and comment! I want to hear from you, good or bad!


End file.
